


Hurricane Orlando

by evesharmony



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-09-14
Updated: 2004-09-14
Packaged: 2017-10-13 05:01:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/133230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evesharmony/pseuds/evesharmony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eric was there in between them, drawing them together yet keeping them separate.  Sean didn't have to feel Orli's trim waist under his hand, didn't have to be sucked in by the hint of cologne that trailed after Orli like a beckoning finger.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hurricane Orlando

Fuck, he hated these things.  The freak show, Orlando called them.  Sean couldn't have agreed more.  Sean, over here.  Sean, turn this way, Sean pose with Eric, pose with Orlando, pose with Brad.  They were like monkeys on parade.  To make matters worse he'd had to get a new suit at the last minute because the one he wanted to wear didn't fit anymore.  One too many trips to the gym.  But this suit didn't fit quite right either.  He shrugged subtely, trying to adjust the fall of the shoulders.  It really was a lost cause.

 

He didn't give a rat's ass about how he looked, really.  He ignored everything in the tabloids these days.  But he knew better than to try to fool himself that easily.  He might not have cared what he looked like for the press, but there was still someone here that he wanted to impress.

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Sean felt the usual spark of jealousy at seeing Orli hanging off of Eric's large frame but quickly quashed it.  It wasn't like he was dating the lad.  And Eric was as straight as they came.  Anyone with two eyes could see how in love he was with his wife.  And so Sean could put up with the hugs and the snogging and the jokes, because he knew it was all in jest.

 

Orlando somehow managed to attach himself to Sean's hip at every press conference and premiere during Rings.  And while he'd tried to join in on the comraderie by sliding his arm around Orli's waist and laughing at the antics of the hobbits, he'd felt uncomfortable.

 

But not tonight.  Not tonight, because Eric was there in between them, drawing them together yet keeping them separate.  Sean didn't have to feel Orli's trim waist under his hand, didn't have to be sucked in by the hint of cologne that trailed after Orli like a beckoning finger.  With Eric between them he could keep a clear head, laugh at Eric's ridiculous Joan Rivers impersonation and follow the orders of the barking mob.  _Turn this way; over here; no, over here; Sean!_

 

And in the back of his mind he could revel in the fact that his arm was touching Orli's arm where they were looped together behind Eric's back.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Orli, as usual, was boucing off the walls.  Sean hovered near the edge of the crowd, content just to observe his friend flitting from group to group, hugging and kissing everywhere he went.  He allowed himself an amused grin as he watched Jen turn to say something to her husband only to find him wrapped in Orli's arms.  She laughed while Brad careful extricated himself.

 

"Force of nature, isn't he?" said a voice somewhere behind and above his head.

 

Sean snorted, felt the suit jacket slide off to the left, couldn't be bothered to shrug it back into place.  "Like a bloody hurricane."

 

"He was looking for you earlier."

 

"Did he say what it was about?"

 

"A tattoo, I think."

 

Sean groaned.  "Bugger.  Don't tell me he wants another memento."

 

Eric laughed and laid his hand on Sean's shoulder.  "You'd look good with the emblem of Troy across your back."

 

"I'm a Greek, you Trojan prat."

 

"Well, we can't all be perfect, now, can we?" said Eric in a snooty accent.

 

"Says the one who got *killed*."

 

Eric gestured back and forth between them with his glass of champagne.  "Pot, kettle, black."

 

Seans' reply was cut off as Hurricane Orlando hit.

 

"Sean!" he beamed, wrapping Sean in a brief hug, leaving his arm around Sean's waist.  Sean wondered if the entire room was now looking at them.  "Where've you been, you old bugger?"

 

"Oh, I've been around.  Watching you molest half the room, mostly."

 

Orli laughed, his grip tightening.  Sean held himself straight, both hands wrapped around his drink, trying not to look too uncomfortable.  And and the same time trying not to look overly comfortable.  Eric spotted his wife and retreated a moment later, leaving Sean with Orli.

 

"What are you doing after the party?" the younger man asked, taking a step back so he could sip his own drink and face Sean directly, something which made Sean breathe easier until he realized that those bright brown eyes were now focussed directly on his face.

 

"Sleeping?" he suggested.

 

"Before that."

 

"Driving home?"

 

"Bean," Orli warned, serious and teasing at the same time.

 

"Bloom," he growled back.

 

Orli laughed.  "Honestly, I don't know what I'm going to do with you."

 

Sean could think of a few things, but he certainly wasn't going to suggest them.  He hid the curve of his smile behind a sip of champagne, but Orli caught it anyway.

 

"Come on Beanie.  I know there's a lager lout in there dying to get out.  You're coming with me."  And then Orlando fucking grabbed his hand in the middle of the crowded room and began pulling him toward the doors.  He had no choice but to let himself be dragged along.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Sean had been expecting Orli to try to talk him into coming to some after-after party which would doubtless include many scantily-clad women, loud music and bad beer.  So it was in somewhat of a daze that he found himself in the back of a limo with Orli, on his way to a private house that someone had loaned out to him.  Just the two of them.

 

"...and just gave me the whole house for the weekend.  Think they were expecting me to throw a huge bash or something," Orlando was saying.

 

He would have expected the same thing.  "So why aren't you throwing the party of the century?"

 

Orli shrugged, slouched down farther on the leather seat.  "I'm tired."

 

Sean reached over and put his hand against Orli's forehead.  "Nope, temperature's normal," he teased.  His hand lingered a moment too long against Orli's skin, feeling a few wisps of stray hair before Orli batted his hand away playfully.

 

"Can't a bloke take a breather now and then?"

 

"Sure, a bloke can.  But you're Orlando Bloom--"

 

"Oh, don't you start too," Orli warned, shaking his finger.  Orli's tone was joking, but Sean could still sense an undercurrent of strain in his voice.  Sean put up his hands in surrender and studied his friend as Orli launched into another tale.

 

Orlando had been much quieter since they got in the limo.  Not to say he was silent, but his chatter had immediately switched from fourth gear down into second.  The tie was gone--where to, Sean wasn't exactly sure, but probably in some adoring fan's pocket knowing Orli--the shirt was untucked, cuffs unbuttoned, jacket in a crumpled heap on the limo floor.  He'd taken out the ponytail and his hair fell messily around his face as he told his story.  Dark circles were forming beneath Orli's eyes, something Sean had failed to notice before.  He'd mostly avoided looking into Orli's eyes for fear of somehow betraying his feelings.

 

"Beanie--are you even listening to me?"

 

Sean snapped to attention.  "Sure.  And then she asked you where you were staying tonight," he ventured, grasping at the half-heard straws of Orli's story.

 

It must have been close enough to the truth.  Orli just stared at him for a beat and then continued.  "Yeah.  Anyway, I told her I had to fly out after the party.  She's a gorgeous woman, but come on, Nicole Kidman?  Young men must be the latest Hollywood accessory."

 

"You turned down *Nicole Kidman*?" Sean blurted in surprise.

 

"I *knew* you weren't listening to me!" Orli exclaimed, sitting up and half turning to face Sean.

 

"Nicole Kidman!?"

 

"I could have told you I'd been taken hostage by green haired hippie Jehovah's Witness grandmothers and you wouldn't have batted an eye."

 

He closed his mouth as he realized Orli had a point.  But he didn't want Orli to start asking why he was so distracted.  "You have more of a chance with the hippie Jehovahs than with Nicole Kidman."

 

"Cunt."

 

Sean chuckled, and then for the first time that night a silence fell between them.

 

"You know," Orli finally said, quietly, "if you're tired I can still get the driver to take you home.  You don't have to come over."

 

Well, this was his out.  He could go back to the hotel, have a few more drinks and a good wank and hope to get at least a few hours of sleep before catching his flight home.  Or he could spend the next few hours with Orli.  When it came down to it, choosing between the torture of being without Orlando and the torture of being with Orlando wasn't very hard at all.

 

"I'm fine," he said, forcing a smile.

 

"It's just, well, I haven't seen you in over a month before tonight, and we never got to see each other much during Troy.  I thought it would be nice if we had a chance to catch up, just the two of us."

 

Sean couldn't argue with that.  His smile turned genuine.  "I'm fine, really."

 

Some of the tension he'd seen in his friend's face melted away as Orli smiled back.  "So, who was that bird I saw you chatting to?  Blue dress?"

 

Sean struggled to recall just who Orli was talking about.  He'd talked to quite a few people, but always his attention had been half on Orli.

 

"Come on Beanie.  Blonde hair, big . . . eyes."  Orli's own eyes were twinkling with mischief.

 

Sean vaguely remembered the woman Orli was describing.  She'd been an attourney, or a ad exec, or something.  "Ah, no one.  Wasn't really my type," he added wryly.

 

"Yeah," Orli added after a beat.  "Neither was Nicole."

 

They burst into laughter, and this time the silence that fell between them was comfortable.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Some of Orli's bouncy excitement returned the closer they got to the house.  Well, perhaps "house" was an understatement.

 

"This is bloody brilliant!" Orli gushed, scrambling out of the back of the limo.  Sean had only a moment to tell himself that he had not just checked out Orli's ass before he too was gazing over at the estate in awe.  Because estate was exactly what it was.  The two of them could live here for a week and never once run into each other.

 

"Fucking hell."

 

"Fifty rooms all to ourselves, Bean."

 

"What the hell are we supposed to do with fifty rooms?"

 

Orli grinned.  "Play hide and seek?  Come on," he urged, looping his arm through Sean's and tugging him impatiently toward the front door.  He suddenly caught a trace of cologne.  Eternity.  Sean would know the scent anywhere--it was a cologne he wore himself sometimes.  It had been Abby's favorite.  He hadn't worn it for years--not since Rings, not since Abby had asked him for a divorce.  It brought back bittersweet memories.

 

The door opened before they got to it, revealing a butler.  More staff stood behind him in the foyer.  "All to ourselves?" Sean murmured.

 

"Bonsoir monsieurs," the butler said.  "I'm Renaud, and I will be at your service for the weekend."

 

Orli stepped forward and shook the man's hand.  "Fantastic.  The first order of business--you can all take the weekend off."

 

The staff looked at each other curiously, and Sean arched his eyebrow at Orlando.  Sean wondered what they were thinking, two blokes wanting a house all to themselves.  Orli seemed to have come to a different conclusion about their surprise.

 

"Don't worry about your pay.  I'll make sure you get it.  Better yet, if the company doesn't want to cough it up I'll send Odysseus here after them," he grinned, jabbing his thumb in Sean's direction.  "It might take him 10 years but he'll get the job done."

 

Sean rolled his eyes.

 

"But monsieur, won't you be needing a cook at least?"

 

"We'll manage," he said, turning to Sean.  "Won't we?"

 

The little bugger was probably going to make him cook.  Sod it all.  They could order take away.

 

The staff left slowly, after repeated assurances from Orlando.  By the longing looks the female staff were sending Orlando, it was clear why they didn't want to leave.  He even caught a few looks thrown his way.  He had to stop a smug grin from overtaking his face.  Orlando was his for the night.

 

Shit.  He was going to get himself into trouble.  This called for another drink.

 

"Where do you think the bar is in this labyrinth?"

 

"Let's go look.  It'll be like a treasure hunt!"

 

Sean snorted at Orli's childish enthusiasm, but felt himself drawn in nonetheless.  "If you hadn't fired the entire staff I could have just had someone bring me a drink," he grumbled, but it was half-hearted at best.

 

They'd found two bathrooms, a kitchen and dining room, and a den when Orli looked out the windows and spotted the pool.  Sean followed him out the sliding glass doors onto the patio.

 

"Let's go swimming," Orli said, already unbuttoning his shirt.

 

Sean covered up his sudden discomfort with a laugh.  "You're daft."

 

Now the shirt was hanging open, revealing a stripe of brown skin that Sean tried not to stare at.  "Come on, Beanie, live a little."

 

"I have lived.  That's why I need another drink."

 

He turned, hoping to retreat into the house before Orlando took off any of his clothes.  He hestitated upon seeing a bar set up on the other end of the patio.

 

"Ah ha!" Orli said, apparently spotting the bar as well.  "I can swim, you can have your drink, and then you can join me."

 

Bugger.  He'd look like an idiot if he put up a fight now.  Sean glanced back to see Orli shrugging out of his dress shirt.  Right.  Drink.  He spun and walked quickly to the bar, pouring himself two fingers of scotch, not daring to look until he heard the splash that indicated Orli was safely ensconced in the water.

 

He turned around just in time to see Orli emerge from underwater, smoothing his hair back from his forehead.  Shit, he looked like a porno.  Sean gulped back the rest of his scotch and poured himself another as Orli dived back under and cut through the water to Sean's end of the pool.

 

"What are you doing?  Get in here."

 

"I'm not getting in the bloody pool, Orli."

 

"Is that right?"

 

"Yes."

 

"Well, if you won't get in the pool, maybe the pool can come to you."

 

Before he could process the meaning behind Orli's words, a wave was hurtling toward him.  He danced away, but not fast enough to stop from getting soaked.

 

"You fucking cunt!" he shouted, spilling his scotch on the deck.  He tried to glare but it was mostly ineffective considering the reluctant grin on his face that matched the evil one on Orli's.

 

"Get in the pool Bean."

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

  

  1. Lithe and muscular and he'd better stop thinking about it unless he wanted to embarrass himself.
  



 

Everything was wet, but it was just habit to fold his clothes carefully and set them on the closest table.  Shit, they'd take forever to dry that way, but he'd feel silly laying them out again.  He didn't want Orli to think he was stalling.

 

"You'll make someone a good wife someday, Beanie."

 

He gave Orli the two-fingered salute and slid into the pool.  He'd been bracing himself for the shock of cold water, but--

 

"It's warm."

 

"Of course it's warm.  It's heated.  We're not barbarians, you know," Orli grinned.

 

Sean splashed him.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

"Tattoo," Sean said suddenly, coming up for air after a few minutes of lazy laps around the pool.

 

"What?"

 

"Eric said you wanted to talk to me about a tattoo."

 

"Right!  I wanted to see your Rings tattoo."

 

"Orlando.  You were there when I got it."

 

"I know, but I want to see the finished result.  Come on Bean--show you mine if you show me yours," he said with an evil waggle of his eyebrows, holding up his right wrist so Sean could see the elvish 'nine' inscribed there.

 

Sean rolled his eyes and remained silent, unable to think of a comeback that wouldn't sound incredibly perverted.  Orlando twirled his finger impatiently and Sean reluctantly turned sideways.  He tried to quell the sense of anticipation that came over him as Orlando approached.  The lad just wanted to look at his tattoo, for christsakes.  From the corner of his eye he saw Orli reach out and he tensed.  It was slight, but Orli still noticed.

 

"I don't bite," Orlando murmured

 

He bit the inside of his cheek to stop the 'what if I asked you to?' from popping out of his mouth.  The next thing he knew Orli was leaning forward, and it looked like he was about to--

 

Sean's entire body suddenly felt as if it was on fire at the sudden shock of Orli's lips on his skin.  Forgetting his pretense to keep it cool he whirled around despite the fact that the shock and desire on his face were plain to see.  But Orli wasn't looking at him, was staring down at the surface of the pool and running his fingers through the water.

 

"Sometimes I wish," he started with uncharacteristic uncertainty, "that I'd never been in Rings."

 

Sean frowned.  "What are you on about?"

 

"Well, it's like, you do something amazing, and then everything after that pales in comparison.  And no matter what you do, it just can't be like it was."

 

He reached out and settled his hand lightly on Orli's shoulder.  It was getting cool outside--they'd both broken out in goose bumps.  "Orlando."

 

"I know it's ridiculous--"

 

"Orlando.  Look at me."  Orli raised his head, the look on his face slightly lost.  Sean sighed.  "It's not ridiculous.  It's completely understandable, especially after how close you were to everyone--Vig, the hobbits--"

 

"Not just them.  On Pirates, I thought it would be just like Rings, but it wasn't the same at all.  And then Troy came along and all I could think about was how great it would be to be working with my mates again.  And working with Eric again *was* great, but something was missing.  I missed you.  I barely saw you the entire time we were filming."

 

His stomach did a strange flop, but Sean tried not to read too much into what Orli was saying.  "I'm here now," he said softly, squeezing the shoulder beneath his hand.

 

A sweet smile lit Orli's face and the flop turned into outright butterflies.  He braced himself for one of Orli's hugs, but it never came.  They simply stared at each other for a moment and Sean saw an unfamiliar expression cross Orli's features before his friend shivered and pulled away.

 

"We'd better get inside," he said, turning and hauling himself out of the water.

 

Sean stood there for a beat, trying to process what had happened in the last five minutes.  Fuck, he was too old for this--45 with three wives behind him and hopefully dissecting their conversation like a fifteen year old boy with a crush.  How could Orli make him feel so old and so young at the same time?

 

Resolving not to think about it too much, he climbed out of the pool and towelled off.  His clothes were still too wet to put on.  He glanced over at Orli's clothes--Orli's *dry* clothes--and then shook his head.  It would look a bit odd for him to put on Orlando's clothes, wouldn't it?

 

Orlando had already disappeared into the house, so he followed the trail of water into the kitchen and saw Orli peering in the fridge, towel slung over his shoulder.  Sean wrapped his own towel around his waist and leaned against the counter, watching Orlando dig through the refridgerator.  When Orlando didn't speak for several moments, Sean became concerned.  This was the second time that Orli had fallen silent.  Obviously, what he'd been talking about before, about nothing being the same since Rings--obviously it was taking more of a toll than anyone realized.

 

Sean knew he wasn't good at this kind of thing, knew he'd just say something that would probably make Orli feel worse, so instead he'd do one of the few things he knew he *was* good at.

 

"Why don't you let me make us something to eat?" he said, disregarding his vow not to cook.  He took a few steps closer and crossed his arms over his chest when Orlando glanced up.

 

"Why don't we just order out?"

 

"I don't mind."

 

"I can help."

 

Sean couldn't stop the grimace that crossed his face.  "No offence, Orli, but I'd prefer if we were able to eat it after cooking."

 

Orlando smiled sheepishly, but said in his own defense, "I'll have you know my cooking has improved quite a lot since you last had it."

 

"Better safe than sorry."

 

Better safe than sorry.  That seemed to sum up his entire relationship with Orli.  Close but not too close.  Sean waited until Orli was out of earshot and then sighed.  If he thought some home cooked food was going to fix things, he was out of his bleeding mind.  But what else could he do?

 

He peered into the well-stocked fridge.  He could do omelets.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

"Hey, there's a whole closet full of clothes in the master bedroom," Orli said, wandering back into the kitchen fully dressed.  Sean found himself both relieved and disappointed.  Orlando had an assortment of clothes in his arms, which he set on the table.  "You're not that much bigger than me.  Something in there is bound to fit."  He quickly noted, but failed to comment on the fact that Orli had brought him socks, but no underwear.  He then wondered if Orli was wearing any, but quickly stopped as he burned himself on the frying pan.

 

Sean ended up in a pair of black cargo pants and a t-shirt that had a cigarette-smoking dragon on it.  Yeah, someone had definitely catered to Orli's taste.  The clothes were a bit snug, especially the shirt, but they'd do.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

"This is great, Beanie.  You really do make a good wife.  Marry me?" Orli asked cheekily.

 

Sean lunged with his fork but Orlando somehow managed to twist away and jump up without spilling any of his supper.

 

"How did you do that?"

 

"I'm an elf, remember?  And a pirate!"

 

"And a pussy," Sean added, referring to Paris.

 

"Hey!" Orli said, and then sat down when he realized he couldn't really argue.  "I prefer use the term 'lover, not fighter'."

 

"Alright then 'lover'," Sean said and immediately wished he hadn't.  "Sit down and finish your supper."

 

"Yes Dad."

 

"Brat."

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

 

"Will you just pick something already?"

 

"I will, as soon as I see something I like."

 

"Orlando, there are at least five thousand channels.  There's got to be *something* you want to watch."

 

"Well we're never going to find out if you don't let me get on with it, now will we?"

 

Sean let his head fall against the back of the couch.  He may have acted exasperated, but he was going to miss this sparring with Orli.  Who was going to keep him on his toes?  Who was going to keep him from taking himself too seriously?  Gradually he became aware that the channel flipping had stopped and that he was listening to something very familiar.

 

"What the hell--"

 

"Hey isn't this one of yours?"

 

Sean's head snapped up and he found his own face staring back at him.  Oh hell, of everything that *could* have been on, it had to be this.

 

"You're not actually going to watch this, are you?"

 

"This is classic British cinema."

 

"You're so full of shit."

 

"Come on Beanie, you can do a running commentary."

 

"And what am I supposed to say?  Here's the bit where I'm shagging her Ladyship.  Oh, and here's another bit where I'm shagging her Ladyship.  And yet another--"

 

"You're supposed to be a little more creative than that."

 

Sean glared until he heard the kissing noises start, and then he stood up and snatched away Orli's empty plate.  He retreated to the safety of the kitchen with the dirty dishes.  Orlando was sitting in there watching him shag Jolie Richardson.  Nah, the lad had probably changed the channel as soon as he left and was presently sitting on the couch chuckling to himself about how he'd managed to embarrass Sean.

 

Grinning to himself, Sean wandered back outside to the bar and poured two drinks.  When he stepped back into the living room the grin quickly faded from his face, replaced by confusion and then amazement.

 

Orlando obviously hadn't heard him approaching, otherwise the lad would not be sitting there with a glazed look in his eyes and one hand on his--

 

Sean quickly backed out of the doorway.

 

Shit.  Bloody fucking shit.  He looked around in a panic, as if the walls would magically come to life and tell him what to do.  This was ridiculous.  He hurried back to the kitchen and downed his scotch, then Orli's as well.  The lad probably didn't like scotch anyway.  He closed his eyes and leaned against the counter.

 

Alright Bean, this is one of those times when you've got to make one of those decisions with real consequences.  Damnit.  He knew what he should do, what he *wanted* to do, but he didn't know if he had the balls for it.  After a few more seconds of debate he pushed himself away from the counter.

 

He stepped back into the living room slowly, eyes immediately zeroing in on Orlando, who was still oblivious to his presence.  He came to a sudden decision.  If Orlando wanted to act like nothing was going on, he would too.  But if Orli . . .

 

Sean cleared his throat, startling Orli.  The lad jumped up, sending the remote skittering across the room.

 

"Sean, I . . ." he said, glancing around, mouth opening and closing but nothing more coming out.  Neither of them looked at the TV, but that didn't matter, because the sounds . . .

 

He wanted to shut his eyes as Mellors and Her Ladyship gave one more soulful moan, signalling the end of the scene.  He could feel his face heating up in desire, which then made him turn even more red with embarrassment.  Getting off on his own sex scene.  Seemed a bit sick, except, that wasn't all of it.

 

Everytime Sean saw himself in a love scene it made him cringe.  Did he really sound like that?  What exactly had he been thinking of to make his face twist in that way?  Never before had it turned him on, even knowing that everyone around him was squirming in their seats because of the display.  What was different this time?

 

Orlando had never been one of those people before.

 

Not like Orli was squirming in his seat, being that he was standing up, but he was flustered, and embarrassed, and . . .

 

Making absolutely no effort to hide his erection.

 

Not that trying to hide it would have made any difference at this point, but it startled Sean enough that he found his voice.

 

"Jolie got bark-burn all up her back, and we couldn't shoot the scene where I'm shagging her from behind until the scrapes healed."

 

Orli's eyes widened ever-so-slightly, and Sean wondered if he was going to make a run for it.  He'd wanted commentary.  Maybe now wasn't the best time for it.

 

"Orli," he started, unconsciously taking a few steps forward.  "Do we need to talk?"

 

"I don't know," he answered, and it wasn't until Orli backed away that Sean realized he'd even moved.  Orli looked . . . not quite scared.  Upset?  The lad had been acting funny all night, and he had a feeling he was about to find out why.  Purposefully, he stepped forward and watched Orli step back.  He did it again, and then again, until Orli bumped into one of the end tables.  He kept his balance, but a jug of water toppled over and spilled onto the carpet.

 

"Shit!" he exclaimed, crouching down and scooping up the jug.  He grabbed a throw pillow and tried to soak up the spill.

 

Sean hurried over.  "It's just water, Orli."

 

"Shit, I know.  And I sent the goddamned maid home."  He frantically dabbed at the water anyway. 

 

"Orlando."  Sean grabbed Orli's arm.  Orli froze at the contact, staring down at the carpet.  Sean pried the damp pillow out of his hands.

 

"I need to soak up the water," Orli said quietly.

 

His grip tightened on Orlando's arm.  "Orli, I think we need to talk about this."

 

"Sean, fuck.  I didn't mean for this, I mean, I did but not like--and then you were just there and it was like, shit I didn't mean--"

 

"Ease up, Orli.  You could be speaking Elvish for all the sense you're making."  A reluctant smile spread over Orlando's face, but before he could speak Sean kept going.  "I know what this looked like, but I could be reading too much into it.  You're one of my best mates, Orli, and if you tell me this is nothing that's all it will be.  Won't even remember it happened."

 

"That sounds too easy."

 

Sean chuckled.  "Trust me, it won't be.  Not with you looking like . . ."  He trailed off, feeling a flush creep up his neck, over his cheeks and all the way to the tips of his ears.

 

"Like what, Beanie?" Orli asked, and he sounded just a little bit breathless, and looked just a little bit hopeful.

 

Fuck it.  "Like you need a good and proper fucking," he blurted.

 

Orli rocked back on his heels, and Sean let his hand slip off of Orli's arm.

 

"That's what I looked like?" he questioned, voice much stronger than it had been mere seconds ago.

 

Sean nodded, unable to look into his friend's face.  He sensed movement, saw Orli's knees settle across from his, watched Orli's torso close the gap between them.

 

"Amazing, because that's what I felt like," Orlando whispered.  Sean's head shot up, the "What the fuck are you talking about" getting caught on the mouth that appeared so close to his own.

 

Out of instinct he jerked his head back, but was cursing himself before he'd even completed the movement.  He'd just stopped Orlando Bloom from kissing him.  What a wanker he was.

 

"I'm sorry," Orli said, backing off a little.  "I thought . . .  I don't know what I thought."

 

"No--you, I just.  You caught me off guard."

 

Orlando raised an eyebrow.  "Really.  So if I warn you beforehand . . ."

 

Sean gave him one of his typical lopsided grins.  "Yeah."

 

"Well?"

 

"Well what?"

 

"You're not off your guard now, are you?"

 

His eyes widened slightly.  "I guess that depends on what you're up to."

 

Orlando moved in, so close that he had to close his eyes or go cross-eyed.  "I'm going to kiss you again, Beanie.  And this time you're going to slide those fucking pornographic hands around my body while I dry hump you on the wet carpet."

 

Sean felt his heart stop momentarily, before starting back up twice as fast.  Hurricane Orlando was about to hit.

 

"Is that enough warning for you?"

 

"Shut up cunmmmfffff," he managed before Orlando was on him, squirming and pushing and situating himself right in the cradle of Sean's thighs before he even knew what was going on.  His last coherent thought was remembering Orli's warning, and so he slid his hands up under the ridiculous t-shirt and got lost in the feeling of warm skin and hot lips and the delicious friction of Orlando grinding their hips together.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Sean woke little by little, first aware of the too-bright room and the pleasant breeze ghosting over his bare shoulders.  Then came the warmth draped over his back, the twinge between his legs, and the soft snoring behind him.  Awkwardly, he turned his head, hoping not to disturb or dislodge his companion.  Orli slept on, nuzzled up against Sean's back.  Sean couldn't have stopped the smile from spreading over his face even if he'd wanted to.  His eyes wandered over Orli, taking in the messy hair and mouth open in sleep.

 

His eyes eventually settled on the bedside clock and he started.  Shit.  It was ridiculously early, but he'd miss his boarding call if he wasn't out of here in thirty minutes.  With one last longing look at Orli, he tried to slip out from under him, but the arm around his waist tightened.

 

"Mmmm, don't," Orlando mumbled.

 

"I'm going to miss my plane."

 

Orlando struggled to sit up, rubbing his eyes blearily.  Sean started to get up again, but Orlando grabbed his wrist with surprising swiftness.

 

"Orli--"

 

"Stay."

 

"I can't," he said, hating the way the hopeful look on Orli's face fell.  "The girls are meeting me at the airport," he added, to stress how important it was that he be there.

 

Orlando nodded and let go.  He looked so disappointed that Sean settled back down on the bed.  Twenty-five minutes.  Plenty of time to call a cab and get dressed.  His hotel was on the way, he could ring and ask them to have his stuff waiting at the front desk.  He let his hand trail up Orli's arm and over his shoulder.  His thumb stroked slowly over the skin at the base of Orlando's throat.

 

"I'm not running out on you, Orli.  It's just bad timing."

 

"Doesn't mean I have to like it."

 

Sean grinned and bent down to place a kiss on that adorable pout.  Which was his first mistake.  Orlando's arms wrapped around him.

 

"Let me come with you," Orlando said when they parted long enough for air.

 

"Orli, love, you've got about a hundred interviews and press things to do today.  Don't think you can reschedule them all."

 

"I won't go."

 

He just raised his eyebrows and stared knowingly at Orlando.

 

"Fine, fine.  I'll do my job, and you go home and be a dad."  He flopped back against the headboard.

 

Feeling guilty, Sean got out of the bed and reached for his borrowed clothes.  His suit was probably dry by now, but he just didn't feel like bothering.  As long as no one got any pictures of him in these clothes . . .

 

"Why don't you have a hundred interviews too?"

 

"Because the poster says 'starring Orlando Bloom', not Sean Bean.  Besides, I know how to say no."

 

Orlando tossed the sheet back and stalked toward him.  Sean swallowed and felt the dresser biting into his back.

 

"If I recall, you didn't say no last night.  And I'm betting you won't say no now."  Orli dropped to his knees and pressed his face against Sean's hipbone, hand wrapping around his quickly responding cock.

 

Sean felt the cargo pants slip from his fingers as he clutched at the dresser.  A glance at the clock told him twenty minutes.  Christ, if he didn't make his flight he'd have to wait until tomorrow night, and phone Mel and explain, and then phone Abby, and she'd give him aggro about responsibility and he'd never hear the end of it.  He had to go now.  Had to.  'No' was on the tip of his tongue.  But something else was on the tip of Orlando's.

 

"Orlandoooofuck," he breathed as a warm mouth closed around him.  His hand moved toward Orli's face, meaning to gently push the lad away.  Instead his traitorous fingers tangled in Orli's messy hair and squeezed.

 

He looked down to see what might have been a knowing smile, if not for the distortion of Sean's cock between his lips.  Yeah, yeah, he telegraphed.  You're right about me.

 

"Prick," he managed between a gasp and a moan.

 

Orlando responded by sucking harder and then the suction was abrupty replaced by gentle stroking.  His brain resumed functioning somewhat.

 

Fifteen minutes.  Bloodyfuckinghell he was going to kill Orli if the lad kept him on the edge like this and didn't get on with things.

 

Then the stroking stopped all together.

 

His eyes flew to Orlando, who was staring up at him with a slight frown.

 

"What?"

 

"Where are you?"

 

"What?"

 

"I'm sucking a guy off, I expect him to be fully in the moment."

 

Another "What?" threatened to pop out of his mouth, but he bit it back.  He didn't know what else to say.  He was also wondering how often Orlando had done this, that he would be insulted.  He couldn't leave things like this.  But he couldn't face the looks on his daughter's faces knowing he'd blown their weekend together.  Again.  Evie, well, he was getting all week with her, but he knew she'd be disappointed if he showed up on Monday instead of Saturday.

 

Orlando got to his feet and sighed.  "Why don't you get dressed.  I'll call a cab."

 

He turned to go, but Sean grabbed his hand and pulled him back.  "Orlando.  I promised the girls I'd spend the weekend with them.  I see them little enough as it is.  If I hadn't promised them--I wouldn't even think about leaving."

 

"So you can't stay and I can't go."  Orli's eyes suddenly lit up.  "Bring them here."

 

"I can't just snap my fingers--"

 

"You're the most recognized actor in Britain, just phone and get them on the soonest flight and you can all spend the weekend here.  Come on, Beanie.  It'll be a blast!"

 

Well.  That would certainly suit everyone's purposes, wouldn't it?  Though he didn't know how comfortable he'd be in bed with Orli, knowing his children were in the house.  It was a big house, though.

 

"Abby," he groaned.  "She'll never go for it."  He wasn't too thrilled himself about the idea of his five-year old daughter getting on a plane.

 

"Well you'll just have to convince her, won't you?" Orli said, unconcerned.  "Let's find the phone.  She'll be easier to convince if you've already bought the plane tickets and made the arrangements."

 

Orlando hurried out of the room and Sean was left standing in his wake, staring at the clock and the clothes on the floor.  If they even tried this, he would miss his plane for sure.  But to have his girls here, to watch how Orli would undoubtedly charm them, that he didn't want to miss.  But Evie was so young.  Even if Lorna and Molly were there, he didn't want Evie on a plane without him or her mother.  And he certainly wasn't going to invite Abby to Cannes.

 

Sean sighed.  Fine.  He'd phone Mel and ask her if it was okay for Lorna and Molly to come here for the weekend.  That would be the easy part.  Then he had to call Abby and tell her and Evie that he wasn't coming back until Monday.  And then he would come back in the next life as dog shit.

 

"Beanie!?  Get your tight ass down here!"

 

Sean rolled his eyes and grinned when his flagging hard-on perked up at the sound of Orli's voice.

 


End file.
